Spiral
by Aubrie1234
Summary: How far can someone fall from their greatest perch? Very, very far, and it's not about a brotherly bond ending or friendships tearing apart. "You want to know why we did this? We did this because of an accident, one we'll tell you right now before you die..." (Two-shot, character deaths)
1. Chapter 1

Spiral

By: Aubrie1234

* * *

"Look at this, brother." A newspaper was thrown at the other's feet, "They finally found our 2-for-1." He glanced down at the paper, uninterested.

"And they're going to search, but they won't find us." he muttered, going back to reading. The other laughed, juggling the knives in his gloved hands easily.

"Like h**l they won't! When do you think we should make our next move?"

"Remember, we've got to be unpredictable." the man looked up, a glint in his eyes as he wickedly smiled, "And they best way to do that right now is tonight." A knife was thrown to him, where he caught it easily.

"Who should we do this time?"

"How about the new girl, Shandra?"

"Too predicable. How about someone older?"

"Not as fun. Prostitutes?"

"Then we'd seem too similar to Jack the Ripper." The two sat in silence, one juggling knives while the other fingered the one in his hand.

"Why not a man this time?" asked the reader, Completely unprecedented and unpredictable." The juggler grinned again.

"I'll agree to that. Who do suggest?"

"Carl Flanders. Young, but rich."

"Eh. I was more along the lines of drunken b*****ds who date w***es."

"Give up that d**n grudge on Jerkins already." snapped the reader.

"It was right after our last act. What if we had been caught?" Reader hummed in response.

"He was probably too drunk to remember it, and he could have done him in if that happened. Anyway, it's got to be one or the other. We don't want a pattern, remember?"

"Unless we make tonight another 2-for-1 and don't do another for a while. I _love_ watching this town cower."

"Alright then. Let's give this place another taste of our havoc." The two then got up and left. The paper's headline still blared big and loud:

 _ **BAYBORT BUTCHERS 2-FOR-1!**_

 _ **WHERE, WHO, AND WHEN WILL THEY STRIKE NEXT?**_

 _ **HARDYS ON THE CASE!**_

* * *

"I feel like we're stuck with two Jack the Rippers." Chet whimpered. He was at home with his sister, reading the newspaper in their bedroom. With the unpredictable attacks in the past two weeks, almost no one has dared venture out from their homes, not even to work. It all started with the murder of a young woman in the port district, then escalated from there. So far, there were no connections, no warnings except for letters sent to the papers. The way it always mentioned 'us,' many thought that there was more than one serial killer. But who was so sick to terrorize the town?

"I hope Joe and Frank are okay, especially dealing with these people." Iola added, "They've attacked both night and day, mostly women, but who's to say they won't attack a man next? And they never take anything! It's just so weird."

"Well, remember how Frank mentioned that the attacks might be for attention, especially to them?" Chet said, "That some of their enemies may be doing this to draw them out?"

"Then why do it when they've gotten on the case?"

"Maybe they plan to catch them in an ambush."

"I hope not. Anyway, I want to call the others right quick, make sure they're okay." Iola got up and walked to the next room. Chet continued reading until he heard his sister gasp.

"No way, another one?! When will they stop?! At least he wasn't close to you, Callie. Thanks, and I'm glad you're okay. Bye."

"What was that about?" Chet asked uneasily when Iola walked back in.

"Another 2-for-1. Carl Flanders was killed, along with Tom Jerkins."

"You mean the guy who used to date Callie and the town drunk?"

"The same." Iola nodded, "You know, this last attack seemed to hit a bit close, if you think about it. Until Flanders dumped Callie, Frank wasn't able to make a move. And Jerkins punched Joe while the guys were passing by a bar the other night."

"Do you think Joe's grudge with Jerkins and the bad blood between Frank and Flanders might have something to do with it?" Chet asked. Iola nodded again.

"This adds to my theory about enemies of Frank and Joe."

"But if it did, then wouldn't they try to attack people close to the Hardys, people they're friends with or go to school with?"

"Yeah, but that's a big connection. They connect to the Hardys in some way. So, do you think the others might be connected?" Chet thought back.

"The first victim was Shirley D'Arc, one of the new exchange students. She was flirting with all of the boys in the school except Frank and Joe, which didn't bother Frank so much as Joe, but it did sting a bit."

"Then Dian Michaelson, who worked at the grocery store the boys always go to."

"Virginia Donnels, who worked at the pool everyone went to and was there when Joe and Frank dealt with Brian a while back."

"Fiona Holly, who was always trying to get Joe to date her instead of me."

"Sissi Smith, who was in the same environment club as Frank."

"Tammy Othello, who was in the rock-climbing club with Joe."

"Cinder Chambers, who hated the brothers and was a bully to them since we were kids."

"And finally the Thompson sisters, Audrey and Amanda. They were both cheerleaders for the football team."

"I was right, they all had some connection with Frank and Joe!" Iola said, "I have to tell the others and warn the brothers! If they know this, then maybe they'll be able to protect the next person who might be attacked."

"Don't forget the police." Chet added, where she nodded and ran to the phone.

 _Every time the attacks get closer to home, so when will one of us, Frank's and Joe's closest friends, be next?_

* * *

 _ **ATTACKS CLOSE TO HOME!**_

 _ **VICTIMS HAVE CONNECTIONS WITH HARDYS!**_

"Seems we've been more predictable than we thought." Reader narrowed his eyes.

"It was Iola who spread the word on this, wasn't she?" Juggler shrugged.

"If you want to kill her, fine with me. I don't really care for her."

"Maybe we should stem off the killings for a while, give them a sense of relief."

"Do you want to write the letter this time, or should I?"

"You do it. I need to find a way for us to get out of this place and not seem suspicious." Juggler ran a gloved finger along the edge of a knife.

"And when we come back," Juggler grinned, "we can get back to our jobs." Reader smiled.

"I can't wait, can you?"

"Nope, brother of mine. And, thinking ahead, who should we target when we get back?"

"Targeting Iola would be our best bet, but she may have the police guarding her after this, so let's target someone else. Another man, perhaps." Juggler nodded.

"...When do you think they'll figure it out? We've given them enough hints." Reader glanced up from his book.

"If we're lucky, they won't."

"Nothing lasts forever, though."

"I wonder what the looks on their faces will be like."

"Probably dumbfounded as we get hauled off to the insane asylum." Juggler tossed a knife into the air, easily catching it again, "How long do you want to stave off another killing?"

"About a week, possibly longer, depending on what we do." Reader had already pulled out his laptop and was looking into the news headlines, a few of which were covering the Bayport Butchers' similarities to Jack the Ripper. They were getting increasing fame, and it was making them uneasy. They didn't want to get _too_ famous, after all. Egos were what partially brought down their enemies, and it could do the same to them. Except, they strangely _did_ want to get caught sometime. They guessed it was what was left of their sanity, and they didn't mind. They could stage a way to get out of the asylum easily, they knew.

* * *

 _ **NEW NOTE FROM THE BUTCHERS!**_

 _ **HAVE THEY LEFT FOR GOOD?**_

 _ **WHERE HAVE THEY GONE?**_

 _ **WILL THERE BE MORE DEATH IN THE STREETS?**_

Callie shivered at the headlines. She didn't want to know where they had gone, only if they had been caught and safely put away. She didn't care that much for Carl, but when he had died, old feelings had crept up again. But that wasn't her only problem.

She wasn't sure if the others had noticed, but the Hardy Boys didn't actually seem all that concerned on the Bayport Butchers. They acted like they did, and it was pretty good acting, but when you've been friends with them as long as she had, you notice a few things.

But now that the letter had come out in the papers, many were hoping it was true so they could rest and try to get back to their lives. The brothers were even thinking of taking a new case, which was set in India, they mentioned. But why wish to leave so quickly, especially after the killings? Was it possible...?

No, they couldn't be! They were detectives, they would never do such a thing! ...Would they? Frank had mentioned once that the best of minds could sometimes lose everything and still be great. So could it apply to himself and Joe? She grabbed the phone, dialing their number.

"Hello?"

"Frank! What do you think about the newspapers, what they're saying? Do you think the criminals are really gone?"

"Only time will tell, Callie. You sound worked up, though. Is something wrong?"

"No, just worried about this, is all."

"Alright..." He didn't sound that convinced, but let it drop, "Anyway, Callie, Joe's calling me, so I've got to go. See you?"

"Yeah, bye." She hung up, but wasn't sure if he had made up an excuse or not.

* * *

"Iola's not the only one making connections any more." Juggler glanced up from the map he had been viewing as Reader entered the room, "Callie's getting too close for comfort."

"About time you wanted to kill off the b***h." Juggler snorted, "But we can't do anything about her until our vacation is over." Reader shot out his hand to grab one of Juggler's flying knives, stabbing it into the map fiercely, eyes narrowed.

"She's suspicious, and that's not good for us if we want this spree to continue once we get back." Juggler leaned back in his chair.

"So what do you want me to do? Give her some flowers?" he barked out a laugh.

"Poison her. Not enough to kill her, we can deal with her once we get back, but it'll be so out of the ordinary for the Butchers they may not think we did it."

"I like that idea. You can count on me, brother."

"Just do it, and soon. We need to convince her not to be suspicious of us, just in case we need to kill her." Juggler nodded, grinning.

"Don't worry, I've got it."

* * *

 _ **YOUNG WOMAN POISONED!**_

 _ **WORK OF THE BUTCHERS OR SOMEONE ELSE?**_

"If you ask me, the Butchers did this." Tony growled as he, the Hardys, the Mortons, Jerry, and Biff waited to hear on Callie's condition.

"But this isn't like anything they've done." Joe argued, "Why would they switch tactics so strangely?"

"To cover their tracks, possibly." Jerry said, "I'm starting to think we may have an informant here that's giving the Butchers info."

"But who would want to make a deal with _them_?" Biff shivered.

"Money or even the promise of not being killed." Frank said, "It's not uncommon."

"But if this is the work of someone else, why did they do it and where are the Butchers?" Iola asked.

"Maybe they want to lull us into a false sense of security before they strike again!" Chet fretted.

"Or maybe they've gotten tired of this place and are moving on to another city or town." Joe said, "We have to take everything into account."

"And we're going to have to put our next case on hold, at least until we know Callie will be fine." Frank added.

"Already? Aren't you afraid the Butchers will come back?" Biff asked.

"Maybe, but it's not like we can chase them when we have nothing to go on. And we have no idea of when they left, so we don't know how far they could be."

"You two don't usually give up this easily." Tony said.

"We're not." Joe assured, "But we're backed up on cases and with the Butchers gone, we can finally work on some. Assuming they won't be back, of course."

"I don't like the idea of you guys leaving with those serial killers on the loose." Jerry crossed his arms, "Remember, everyone who they killed had connections to you. Are you sure going on another case is a good idea?"

"If they follow us and leave Bayport alone, that's just a bonus, isn't it?" Joe shrugged.

"But what if they target your family next?" Iola asked. The brothers shared a glance.

"We'll try to work on what we can from home on these cases. But I hope we don't have to leave, in case you guys are right." Frank ran a had through his hair, "I just hope Callie's okay..."

* * *

"Manipulation is a pretty good skill so far. Along with lures, weapons, seduction-"

"We may still be staying here, but we need to hold off on the killings until they think they're secure. When that happens..."

"We'll strike, like wolves in sheep's clothing." The Butchers shared a smile and grin.

"Can't let our skills get rusty, though. And I'd rather have living things to practice on, not dummies." Juggler handed Reader one of his knives, juggling the others one-handed.

"Then what do you suggest?" Reader took the knife, tilting it so it would catch the light.

"I want something that will scream, that shows a ton of fear."

"A horse?"

"Fearful and scream-y, but not what I was thinking of."

"We can't attack people, and getting an animal from a zoo would make them on high alert."

"You sure about that?" Juggler caught all his knives easily, "Again, it's out of the ordinary for the Butchers, and also doesn't go with poisoning Callie."

"We can't risk it, unless you want to make the attacks seem animalistic."

"That just takes the fun out of it, no one knowing it was you."

"But it works." Juggler nodded, conceding to that, than began to throw his knives at a dart board. Taped to the board was a simple picture of the Hardy brothers, their family, and their friends. The knives hit Frank and Joe repeatedly, never touching the rest of the picture. Flicking his knife over his shoulder, Reader hit Callie head-on. They were deadly with any weapon, best at knives, especially Juggler.

"Nice, hitting Callie." Reader ignored him. It was silent for a time, the only sound was the knives hitting the board. Suddenly, Reader grinned and snapped his book closed.

"Why not something a little more macabre? Give a few people some... _gifts_." This piqued Juggler's interest.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Maybe give some witches bat wings, hang some lionfish around..."

"That's even stranger than before, but I like it. Especially the bat part."

* * *

 _ **STRANGE 'GIFTS' LEFT ALL OVER BAYPORT!**_

 _ **FROM THE BUTCHERS OR SOMEONE ELSE AGAIN?**_

* * *

Again and again they came up with strange ideas, deviating everyone from their trail. Weeks passed before people were relaxed about the Butchers and the Hardy brothers chased after who was leaving the 'gifts.' Then came the thing that horrified them the most. A note posted in the front page of the paper, with this headline:

 _ **REAL BUTCHERS NOTE OR FAKE?**_

 _ **SAYS THEY WERE NEVER REALLY GONE.**_

The words chilled everyone that read them. That meant that they had still been behind everything. Smart, clever socio-/psychopaths... Not the best people you want terrorizing your town. However, a few certain people were starting to feel like they knew who the Butchers were.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think Frank and Joe really _don't_ care about the Butchers case." Callie said. They had met up at Chet's and Iola's place, staying in his barn as the Hardys were out investigating. She was much better after being poisoned and had made a swift recovery.

"Yeah, that's the feeling I've been getting, too." Tony agreed.

"Even I have to agree with that." Jerry said.

"But what I want to know is why?" Biff said, "You don't think they could actually be-?"

"No, it's impossible for them to do that!" Chet shook his head vigorously, "They're detectives and we've seen how good they are!"

"But even the greatest of people can fall sometimes." Iola said sadly, also afraid of what they were implying.

"Only one way to find out." Callie said, "We keep watch on them."

* * *

As night fell, they made plans to watch Frank and Joe, starting with their house. Surprisingly, they left, Frank locking the door, and went to their van. Jerry, not being as well known to the Hardys as their other friends, followed them in his car. They traveled down the highway, took some back roads, and took other strange roads, probably trying to lose them, cementing that the brothers were acting suspicious.

 _Just what are they doing?_ Tony thought, riding with Jerry as they followed the brothers. Suddenly, Jerry turned the car off onto another abandoned road and turned it off. Tony was about to ask when he saw Jerry bring out some binoculars. He may not have been as close to the Hardys as the others were, but he had still learned a thing or two about being a detective.

Tony took the binoculars and gazed through them. With the van colored black, it nearly blended in with its dark surroundings; the only thing that helped him keep track were its head and tail lights. Eventually, it began to slow down and stop just half a mile or so short of the old Thompson Manor. Like the other giant, old manors around Bayport, it was rich and lovely, nestled deep in the woods, but wasn't as well known. On assumption, Tony guessed they had parked the van for the night and were making the rest of the trip to the mansion on foot.

"Looks like they're heading to the Thompson place."

"I thought they might." And appeared a walkie-talkie. Time to find out what the brothers were up to. They only hoped it wasn't a trap...

* * *

Iola shivered at the creepiness of the place. Another reason why Thompson Manor wasn't as well known was because it was spooky and creepy, plain and simple. That, and because it was located in the woods near the highway, a bit far off from Bayport. And it was also nighttime. That made it worse, if possible, along with their suspicions.

Nodding to the others, Callie opened the front door. It creaked open, but surprisingly, the lights were on. Or, unsurprisingly, really. Cautiously, the stepped inside. They were impressed to find that not one floorboard creaked. In fact, every piece of the floor looked new. Had the brothers refurbished the place somehow? They began ascending the stairs, which also didn't creak. At the top, when Callie looked back to see how high up they were, she did a double take.

Iola was missing. She had come in with them, hadn't she? Unless... An uneasy feeling began to grow in the pit of her stomach. It was seeming more and more likely that their suspicions were correct. She only hoped Iola wasn't dead, and wondered who was next.

* * *

They fell like silent flies. First Iola, then Chet, Jerry, Biff, Tony... Why was she left last? And where were the brothers? A small part of her wanted to believe that the two were innocent, that this was a trap they had been caught in, but her rational side knew that wasn't the case.

She knew hiding in a closet wasn't the best way to hide from murderers in the house, but after finding everyone disappearing, she hid in the hope they wouldn't find her.

Straining her ears, she heard the almost unnoticeable sound of footsteps. They were so soft on the wood that she wasn't sure if she was hearing it or not. That was proven right when she saw a shadow fall over the closet, blocking the light coming in underneath. She held her breath and waited. Her heart sounded like it was beating much too loudly, like it would give her away. And in a way, she was right.

The knob turned and the door opened swiftly, but there was no one there. Where had the person from before gone? Unless they were hiding nearby, ready to ambush her... But if she just stayed there with the door open, she would be as good as dead. Glancing around as she poked her head out, she grabbed the knob, planning to pull the door closed. However, when it didn't move, she knew that either it was stuck or someone was keeping it from closing.

Then the quiet footsteps came again, this time behind her. Before she could turn her head, everything exploded in pain and went black.

* * *

"Look, I think she's coming to."

"Then give her some room and hide those things!"

"Why? They've found out our secret, so why hide it?"

"You could _at least_ try to keep an image, little brother..." Those voices... They sounded so familiar... And her head hurt. A lot.

Blinking open her eyes, she found herself in a chair, her wrists and ankles handcuffed to the furniture. Glancing around, Callie found she wasn't alone. Her friends were there, and they seemed to all be staring at the same thing, looking as white as sheets. Following their gazes, she found herself slipping into an expected shock.

There they were. The Hardy boys, sitting simply on the couch. Frank was reading a book calmly, which beside him Joe was juggling three sharp knives one-handed. Sitting in between them were a ring of keys, probably for the handcuffs.

"Well, the gang's all together now." Joe gave a feral grin, one that didn't seem to fit on his angelic face. Frank snapped his book closed, looking up with a smile that seemed much more sinister than it should. On the cover of the book were some simple, disturbing words:

 _ **Getting Away With Murder**_

 _ **By: Frank Hardy**_

"Like it?" Frank stood, twirling the book between his fingers, "I wrote this myself, you know. Been writing it for a while now."

"...Why?" Biff was the first to get his voice back.

"Why? Why did we fall so far when we were the greatest? Why did we turn against Dad's principles?" Joe asked, adding a few more knives to his act, juggling with both hands now.

"You want to know why we did this?" Frank added, "We did this because of an accident, one we'll tell you right now before you die..."

* * *

 _ **...Another Insane!Hardys fic, except it isn't just Frank this time. *Nervous laugh* I hope you like it, and there will be more chapters! As for the Thompson Manor/Mansion, I created it for this story.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Spiral

By: Aubrie1234

* * *

 _ **1 Year Ago:**_

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to stay together forever, like the brothers they were, not be put on a death sentence by the person they were sent to investigate.

"C'mon, we've got to keep moving." Frank panted, pulling his exhausted brother along. They had been trying to earn the trust of a big game hunter who was suspected of poaching, but it had horribly backfired. Now they were stuck in the jungle, running for their lives. They've been running for nearly a day, almost nonstop.

"What is he, a big game hunter, or a man hunter?!" Joe gasped, struggling to keep up with his brother.

"With his regard for morals, probably both." They scrambled over a fallen log just in time, as there was a sharp crack as the log was struck by a bullet. That made them run faster, no matter how exhausted.

"I wish there was reception so we could call for help!"

"Save your breath so we can keep running!"

"Is it just me, or does this remind you of that time we had to save Biff from that camp?"

"Joe-"

"No, I'm serious! This is so similar to that time-"

"But this time, we're going to be trophies instead of dead boys, so _run_!" This time, Joe didn't argue. He couldn't have, as he tripped at that moment. Lucky for him, he barely missed getting shot in the head. Pulling his brother again, Frank continued to run. If they slowed down, they would be shot. If they tried to hide, everything would be shot at until they were dead. If they tried to rest, they would also be shot. The only fighting chance they had was to run.

The hunter after them, Mac Hollson, was keeping up with them so easily because he knew this jungle, and because he was riding a specially-made motorcycle. The only reason he hadn't killed them yet was that he was toying with them. However, it was going to have to end soon, as this game had taken much too long.

Frank glanced around, hoping there was someplace they could hide and rest, someplace Hollson didn't know of. Getting an idea, he glanced to the ground. It flew by under his feet, but he was able to make out an depression in the leaves up ahead. Glancing back, there was no sign of Hollson.

 _Time to take a chance._ Tightening his grip on Joe, he ran towards the depression, and his guess was proven correct as they fell through the leaves. Both of them had enough sense not to shout as they fell. Finally coming to a stop, they took shallow breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible. There was no noise from above, but they could feel the vibrations as the cycle passed by.

"...I can't believe that worked." Frank grinned, glad that they were alive, at least for now.

"Frank?" Joe's voice was still quiet. Looking over at his brother, he quickly understood why. They hadn't fallen into just a hole, but also the home of a larger-than-life spider. And Joe was face-to-face with it. The red hourglass shape on its abdomen didn't help, either. It was as big as one of their hands, possibly more, and began crawling towards his brother. Slowly, so as to not spook the spider, he reached into his pocket and took out a penlight. It was a special one ATAC had created for the mission, but they had no chance to use it. He hoped it did its job before the spider had a chance to bite.

With a single click, a red light played from it, searing one of the spider's legs. It quickly scuttled away, but not far and began coming back. However, it gave them enough time to move. As Frank kept it at bay, Joe scrambled up the hole. Then, reaching down, he hooked his hands under Frank's armpits and yanked his brother up just as the spider leapt. It missed and they scrambled up a tree. Sitting on the branches, they looked down. The spider didn't go after them, only repair the top of the hole. Giving each other a glance, they gulped.

"Thank God for ATAC." Joe said at last.

"You said it." They sat there in silence for a while.

"How did this happen, anyway? I thought we almost got away with it!"

"Hollson must have been tipped off somehow, because I knew we were being very careful." Frank answered.

"The only one who knew anything about us was Whitney, and she was helping us!"

"Unless it was just a trick."

"But why? I thought she was an environmentalist, not a poacher."

"And ATAC said that her records were clean, so either she was very good at hiding this or this is her first time."

"If she _has_ fooled us, then she's either very good at being a first-timer or she's really experienced." They both began to feel anger at being betrayed by a girl they thought they knew they could trust. She had also claimed to be an ATAC agent, but they checked it out to make sure. When it turned out she was right, they immediately told her everything they knew.

"...We were fools." Frank said grimly.

"If we survive this, I want to get back at her really _really_ badly."

"You and me both, little brother." After a few more minutes of rest and contemplation, they climbed down. They had to keep moving, no matter how tired they were.

* * *

Something still felt terribly wrong, and they knew it. Since their encounter with the spider, they'd not seen Hollson at all. It was making them feel very uneasy.

"Wait, I think I see a town or village up ahead."

"This is too easy. Do you have your mini-telescope?" Joe nodded and played it over the place ahead. When he turned back to town, his face was grim.

"Hollson's there."

"I thought so. What's going on?"

"There are guards all over the place, and I saw Whitney talking excitedly with Hollson. There was also an entire cart full of ivory. Seems this is the next stage of the game."

"Then let's make our move. I've got an idea." They scrambled back into the brush of the jungle, disappearing easily. Having been 2 days in the jungle, nearing on 3, they were learning pretty quickly how to survive and thrive.

* * *

Hollson entered his room, confident that either the Hardys were dead or going to make a last-ditch attempt. They had nearly ruined his poaching business, and their employer couldn't mention the brothers or themselves without revealing everything. Everything Whitney had told him, at least. She was being a great traitor and had been the one to tell him what the Hardys were really doing.

He was thrilled to hunt down the only prey he hadn't be able to do before then, but it had to be ruined when they had lost him. However, being trapped in the jungle, they were more likely to die than survive, even with their skills. If their bodies were recovered, even their bones, he would still feel the exhilaration of finally doing what every criminal was ever wished to do when tangling with the brothers: making sure they _don't come back_.

Putting his rifle on his desk, he turned to his closet to get his pajamas. Turning back, he blinked. Hadn't he just put his rifle on the desk? But it wasn't there. Dropping the clothes, he began glancing around. His senses, finely tuned from hunting, should be telling him if someone was there, right?

"Looking for this?" Hollson whipped around to see Joe and Frank, Joe holding his missing rifle. However, besides their jungle-splattered, haggard looking appearances, something seemed _wrong_. There was a strange look in their eyes and a feel in the air that nearly made him shiver. Hollson was quite sure that this wasn't what the Hardys were supposed to be like at all, at any time or any place.

"Hello again." he gave a disarming grin, edging toward the door, "I'm sorry our game had to be interrupted. And it seems you've turned the tables on me!" He was close enough to the door now to reach behind him and touch a button. Before he could, Joe raised the rifle and shot at the button, dead center, obliterating it. Hollson always had a muzzle on the rifle, so it made no sound, and he always locked the door so no one could come in. destroying the button had made a bit of noise, though, so someone would come looking, right?

"We've had enough of your games." Frank said without emotion. He nodded, and Joe took aim again. This time there was a small thunk in the door, and Hollson fell without a sound.

"I'll get some knives for Whitney." Joe said, handing the rifle to his brother and rummaging around the room for the hunting knives Hollson had to have.

* * *

When she opened the door, she expected Hollson to have come calling for a late-night poach. Her eyes widened, however, when she saw the brothers standing there. Using that shock, she hugged them, pretending to be their ally.

"Boys, I've been looking every-" She was cut off when they pushed her away.

"We trusted you, you know." Joe spoke, unable to keep the growing anger out of his voice, "But you betrayed us to a hunter."

"So now the _hunter_ becomes the _hunted_." The door closed on them, and screams began to echo in the night. By the time the first responders got there, Whitney Lanely was lying on the floor, dying, covered in her own blood and grievous wounds, but no one else was there.

* * *

It was days before they found Hollson's body, but already the Hardys had left, horrified. What had they done? How could they have let that happen? And yet, their sense of morals was being ate at by the Whispers. The Whispers appeared right after they had gotten their bearing and realized what they had done, always trying to make them go dark again.

 _"Kill someone. Kill someone."_

 _"Who will betray you next?"_

 _"Who can you trust, now that you trust no one except each other?"_

 _"No one knows it was you, you don't have to worry."_

 _"Didn't the feel of killing them enlighten you, make you feel good?"_

 _"You don't have to worry about being blamed because who would believe the Hardy Boys are murderers?"_

They never ended. They were relentless. And, slowly, the brothers felt themselves slipping away, becoming something more sinister, yet upholding the image of crimesolvers. Soon enough, they began to kill others on their missions with no one the wiser, usually those who got close to them. With no evidence pointing to anyone, ATAC couldn't get them to investigate and never even realized their best agents were their worse enemies.

Eventually, they began to take on certain traits for the madness. Frank read, but had no weapons; like his former self, he was smart and knew how to keep things pointing away from them, like having no evidence. Joe had loved knives before and soon became so infatuated with them he began to take them with him everywhere, even juggling them at times; he was also very clever, being able to get them in and out of places without being caught and knowing just where to strike on a victim. Soon enough, though, they began to attack closer to home, to people they were sure would betray them or had hurt them already.

* * *

 _ **Now:**_

"Do you see now? We're doing this both out of fun and of defense." Frank concluded, "And you're going to die because you've nearly betrayed us several times."

"Mostly on our missions, but now, where we're in our prime, doing what we love best." Joe smiled, barely showing his teeth, "Death. And Death is what is now going to end you so we can continue our killing spree."

"But you knew it was wrong!" Iola pleaded.

"We may have before, but the Whispers were right. We're not meant to be detectives, we're meant to be serial killers." Joe toyed with a knife in one hand while juggling the others in his other hand. He then threw the knife at Frank, who caught it without even looking back.

"And it's about time we did some killing. We'll leave someone to tease the police, though. Tease them with knowing what we had become just a little too late." Standing up from the couch, Joe walked over and flicked the light switch. Everything was plunged into darkness, heightening their fear. And then came the screams.

* * *

He didn't know until then how cruel, merciless, or evil the brothers could be. They left him alive, the person they knew the least, to hear their friends die in the dark. When he knew that he was the one they left alive, he cried. He cried and cried, even after the police came. When he told them what the brothers had said, he cried then as well. He cried at the funeral of his friends as the word was spread around the world about how far the Hardys had fallen. He never stopped crying, but he knew that he had to help stop the brothers in some way. Or, at least, help their shocked family.

No one in all of Bayport or even the world had suspected it. ATAC even broke its cover to warn everyone about their best ex-agents. Even if the Hardys were now their enemies, they were right in a way: how could an entire organization not notice what was happening right under its nose?

Not just Bayport was shocked, but the many friends the Hardys had accumulated over the years and the police forces. Even the big agencies, like the CIA and FBI were shocked. All of their numerous friends were kept under tight security so they also wouldn't be murdered, but it didn't help. Many of them were killed and the Hardys escaped. They weren't just the Bayport Butchers anymore. They were the Mass Murderers. They didn't even limit to their friends, now that their secret was out. They relentlessly killed anyone in any place in the world, but were never caught. It frightened everyone. For weeks it seemed they would never be captured, but then it happened in the most unexpected of places.

A month after the world knew about the Hardys, Jerry was going to see the graves of his friends. He had gone to see them every week since they were killed, and it was the only thing that kept him from being overwhelmed by grief. But as he finally caught sight of the graves, he stopped, shocked, angry, and so many other emotions at the same time. There were the brothers kneeling beside the graves, talking to them as if they were still alive.

"You guys may have been traitors, but we still had fun together. Now I sort of wish we hadn't killed you all so soon." Joe said, mostly looking at the shared headstone of Chet and Iola.

"But I still got that heartbreaker off your back, didn't I, Callie?" Frank smiled at the grave, as if Callie was right there. It was then they noticed Jerry, who hadn't moved. Standing, they met his gaze. Instead of the fanatical ones they had held before, both looked much older than they had at all, like they were tired with life.

"Nice to see you again, Jerry." Frank spoke, "Call the police if you want, we don't care."

"We've had a good spree and could go on for as long as we liked, but we're done." Joe continued, "All we want now is to rest. We don't care if we get locked in an insane asylum and forgotten, we just want to rest."

"Hey, if we get the death penalty, then we can see our friends again." Frank chuckled, "Though I bet we'll be thrown into the depths of H**l before we ever see them. We deserve it, after all we've done." Jerry couldn't believe his ears. The Mass Murderers, wishing to go away for good? It was too good to be true, and yet they still held their sincerity. It seemed that was the only thing not corrupted by their insanity. Never taking his eyes off of them, he began to dial.

* * *

The only reason they had been committed to an asylum was because no one had the heart to kill the world's once greatest detectives, even after all they had done. And, somehow, Joe had snuck in knives and Frank had his books. They even tore down the wall between their padded cells to be together, like the brothers they were. And no one wanted to go in there and fix that with Joe's knives around. So it continued like that, no disruption of anything. Eventually, as Joe predicted, they were forgotten, but not for years. And once they were forgotten, they would be ready to strike again...


End file.
